


Sleep

by theclockiscomplete



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 02:46:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5317556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclockiscomplete/pseuds/theclockiscomplete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara's thrashing wakes the Doctor and he comforts her as best he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> From the blog otpprompts: Imagine person A wakes up person B with their nightmares and person B tries their best to figure out how to calm person A down before person A snuggles against them and gets quiet.
> 
> In other words, a band-aid for the bullet holes in our hearts.

The Doctor awoke with the feeling that something was wrong, but it was a long moment before his brain could process what exactly had roused him. He was used to switching off low-level physical receptors; Clara often squirmed and readjusted in the night. But right now she was thrashing, making small helpless noises and covering her face with a bare arm glowing silver with starlight. Fully awake now, the Doctor sat straight up and made gentle shushing noises, hands hovering wildly over her body before coming to rest on her shoulder and the top of her head. The tank she'd gone to bed wearing was rumpled and hiked up to her ribs, and he could see the sweat glistening over her waist like the surface of a moonstone. 

"Clara," he whispered, and his voice was thick with sleep. He shook her shoulder ever so gently. She twitched under his hand and tossed her head, and it was then he saw the tear tracks on her cheeks. "Clara," he said, more urgent now. He gave a grunt as her foot connected with his knee but before he could react, she rolled over and gripped the front of his jumper tight enough that he could feel her shaking fingers against his skin through the manufactured holes. He flailed for a moment, his breath catching in his chest as her head found his shoulder, her leg twining in his. "Okay," he whispered, and his hands found her neck and the small of her back, pulling her close. "Okay," he repeated. He pressed his lips lightly against her hair and breathed her in, rubbing slow circles along her spine. One day, this would be him, thrashing in his long-procrastinated sleep with nobody to hold him but for now, his anchor was here, breathing against him. She was warm and glowing in the starlight on the TARDIS walls, and he felt his muscles finally relaxing as his eyes drifted shut. They were just three broken hearts alone in the universe but as long as he was with her, he could never be less than content.


End file.
